


Mistress of Halloween

by Mariico



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:16:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariico/pseuds/Mariico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Halloween night, there are candies and happy children, but there are also monsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistress of Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:This is the first chapter for the Halloween challenge on the forum. It's my first ever oneshot! *celebrates* Though it definitely/probably/should've been divided up in to chapters, but meh. You get it early and I finished writing and that's all that matters.
> 
> Keep in mind that this is an AU fic. The terminology is a bit strange at first, but hopefully you'll get used to it quickly. If you don't, you can leave me a review or pop me a message, and I'll try to respond as quickly as I can.
> 
> **Thanks to brightneebee and uchiha.s for looking it over. Go and bow down to them, or else you'll face another boatload of typos and mistakes next time.**

  **Mistress of Halloween – AU Tomione**

_October 8 – 9:00 AM_

Hermione Granger was pissed.

Halloween was just around the corner and Hermione still had no idea when she wanted to take the initiation process. On top of that, Ginny had somehow roped her in to co-teaching the kindergarteners with her, which she was beginning to regret. She had to spend an hour every Sunday playing with little kids. While she didn't usually mind them, there were perfectly good Sundays wasted; perfectly good Sundays spent away from the books.

It was not that she didn't like the kids; they were cute and cunning, and Hermione had been pleasantly surprised when they didn't stop to cry every five seconds. However, her books still won by a landslide. She had tried to bring a book to work once before, but Ginny had caught her and sternly told her that since she signed up for it, she was going to have to deal with the consequences.

Hermione wanted to remind her that she herself had tricked her in to doing this—waiting until Hermione was drunk before asking—but she decided to keep her mouth shut.

When she arrived at the kindergarten center, Ginny was up in the front of the classroom, waving her hands around as she talked. Hermione could hear the groans of the children, as Ginny raised her voice to explain. Judging the expression on Ginny's face, Hermione could already guess what the lecture was about, and a dreadful feeling appeared in her chest, the familiar tightening, and she tried to slip away before Ginny could notice.

Unfortunately, Ginny had sharp eyes.

"Hermione!" she greeted cheerfully, and twenty eight pairs of eyes swung to her. Sighing, she entered the classroom, glaring at Ginny to let her know how happy she was with her right now. Ginny, used to the glares by now, merely ignored her and said to the class, "Class, say hi to Miss Granger,"

"Hi Miss Granger," the class chorused.

Hermione had been rather surprised when she applied for a job as a teacher; her personality did not fit the job description, in Hermione's opinion. However, Ginny had been accepted and adopted the roll quite well. Hermione guessed that after living with the brothers she had, she knew just how to make the kids stop from causing havoc. Hermione, on the other hand, had only had experience with a cat, so her kid skills were quite poor. They walked all over her on her first day until Ginny dragged her aside and scolded her for doing such a terrible job.

"Today," Ginny began in her most instructive voice. "We will be learning about the traditions of Halloween." She looked around. "Can anyone tell me something they know about it?"

A girl raised her hand and immediately spoke without being called on. "It's when people become scary monsters," she said, and then added with a smile, "And we get candy."

"That is correct, Hannah, but please wait to be called on before speaking," Ginny said sternly. Hannah's face immediately fell, and Hermione was reminded of herself when she was still in school. Professor Severus Snape had always hated her, and whenever she answered, he would always find some way to humiliate her. Hermione knew that Ginny was very different from Snape, and that she was only trying to enforce the rules, but she couldn't help but remember that feeling she always got that made her want to run to the bathroom and cry.

There was a silence. "No one else?" Ginny asked, but nobody raised their hands, and instead just stared blankly at her. Some people looked genuinely curious, but there were some she could pick out that seemed to think the whole thing was a waste of time. She could spot three of them in the back, busy teasing each other. Hermione had no doubt that they had not been paying attention to Ginny at all.

Ginny had always been afraid of scolding them because their fathers were quite powerful people, and she was afraid of what would happen if word got out to them. However, unlike Ginny, Hermione did not need this job to support herself. She was merely here to help Ginny, and if she got fired because she was helping her, then so be it.

"Draco; Gregory; Vincent!" she snapped, and the three of them immediately looked at her. Gregory and Vincent's eyes were dull and blank, but Draco scowled and glared at her for interrupting his conversation. Ginny looked over fearfully at her, but Hermione ignored her. "Pay attention when the teacher is talking. I'll have to move you." She pointed to the front. "Draco, you can come here, Vincent, you stay back there; and Gregory," she pointed to the small hole in the middle of the group, "You can sit right there."

The three of them just stared at her. Apparently, they had never been ordered to do anything in their life before and this was coming as a major shock to them. Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. "Time is ticking," she informed them. "I asked you to move, so you will move _now_."

It was her glare that did it, and slowly they began dragging themselves to their feet. Everyone quickly moved so they would have a clear path to their designated spots. Hannah even looked at Draco when his back was turned and stuck her tongue out. Hermione knew that she shouldn't encourage these childish actions, but she decided to overlook it this one time. She shot Hannah a smile, and Hannah beamed at her praise.

Draco sat down ungracefully in front of her, snarling something that sounded suspiciously like 'My father will hear about this.' Hermione shrugged it off. The worst thing that could happen was that she could lose her job. And if anything worse happened, she could enlist Harry to help her. Harry was, right now, possibly even more powerful than Lucius Malfoy could ever hope to be. If Lucius had any brains in that empty skull of his, then he would know to stay away from Harry.

Ginny cleared her throat uncertainly, glancing over at Hermione before continuing. "Hannah is correct. Every year, people will become monsters for one day. Does anyone know why this happens?"

"For fun?" someone in the back suggested. There were snickers in the group.

"Good guess, Dean. That can be partially true," she smiled. "There is something thrilling about walking around as beasts." The class stared at her in shock, but she didn't notice. "But that is not the main reason that we do it. Any other guesses?" She looked around, but nobody said anything.

"Every year," Ginny began slowly, her eyes scanning the group, "On October 31st, the day we know as Halloween, we are at risk at being attacked."

The class was completely silence. Thankfully, Ginny had gotten each parent's consent that she could teach this lesson in class, though with Lucius Malfoy it had been rather tricky to get his pen to the paper. Hermione herself couldn't believe that Ginny would teach this to a bunch of kindergartners, but Ginny insisted that they had every right to know.

Hermione thought that maybe they could've waited a couple of years before learning this. They were  _kindergartners._ They could come up with all kinds of clever and  _stupid_ ideas to get themselves hurt.

"For reasons that no one can comprehend," Ginny continued. "A portal opens up to connect this world to another world just for one day. Creatures that we call Death Eaters appear and wander throughout the streets, attacking all the humans. There is no way to defeat them; guns, knives and other methods don't seem to work on them. The only method we know to date on how to defeat them is to scare them."

"Scare them?" a boy in the back repeated dumbly. "You kill them by  _scaring_ them?"

"That's exactly right, Seamus," Ginny nodded. "Just a little scare will do the trick. That is why we don't feel in danger on Halloween, because we can easily chase the Death Eaters away." She paused. "But there is one thing I lied about earlier,"

"Lying is bad, Miss Weasley," Hannah called.

"Yes it is," Ginny said. "Fine, I merely omitted the truth. We do not turn in to beasts—or rather those hideous creatures you imagine to be monsters. Each person has their individual fear to turn in to, a special ability as we call it. You frighten the Death Eaters so much that they retreat. Does this make sense?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"For example," Ginny said. "Is everyone familiar with my brother, Ron?" There were nods. Ron was fairly well known around the community as well. He was Harry Potter's best friend and sidekick. Hermione didn't miss the way that some of the stares started drifting towards her. These little children were too young for gossip. It was true that she and Ron had dated for a couple of months before separating, but it was weird that these kids seemed to know that.

"My brother has the fear of flying," Ginny explained. "He gets in the Death Eater's head and scares them. Of course, his ability is most effective against those that dislike flying in the first place, so it crucial that we assign the right people to the right Death Eaters."

"How does he do that?" Dean asked, looking rather intrigued. "How does he get in to other people's head?"

"It is called Legilimency. That is something you'll learn at your initiation," Ginny said, and Hermione felt a wave of dread flood over her at that word. "You'll take it when you're twenty five, knowing which fear you want to represent. Be warned, though; once you choose, you may never switch."

"So it's like mind control," Seamus clarified.

"Hallucinations," Ginny corrected. "You cannot control the other person's mind."

Draco looked quite happy about this. "Does this mean," he said slowly. "That after I pass my initiation, I can use it on anyone I want?" he smirked, and Hermione didn't miss the way that his eyes drifted towards her.

"That is if you pass first," Hannah said bossily, and there were snickers through the group. Draco turned around and glared at her.

"Yes, you may choose to do so if you want," Hermione said, directing everyone's attention back to her. "However, it is easy to dispel the hallucination if you are expecting it. Don't forget the other person can fight back as well. And the punishment for using your ability on another human being without consent is death." She looked around, looking at Draco the longest. "Don't do it."

"What about us?" a girl in the front asked, looking quite worried. "What if the zombies get to us? We can't defend ourselves."

"That is why trick-or-treating was invented," Ginny said. "Trick-or-treating happens in Diagon Alley every year." Her statement was met by a chorus of nods. "Aurors are stationed around every entrance to Diagon Alley, guarding every street. You are absolutely safe, so don't worry," Ginny, Hermione noticed, purposely left out the fact that trick-or-treating was made to gather all the kids on a couple of streets so the Aurors wouldn't have to scatter around. Most of the kids had strict Halloween stories and legends they liked to believe in, and it was better to not spoil them yet.

Ginny looked at some of the kids, who still looked rather queasy. "Don't worry, if it truly bothers you, you may stay in the house," she said kindly. "The streets are warded to prevent most of the zombies from entering, but the house is completely sealed off. Of course, then you wouldn't be able to get the candy." She smiled at them. "The Aurors will protect you, so you don't need to worry." She frowned. "Of course, if one of you decides to be naughty and leaves the street, then you're asking to be captured."

"Can you give some other examples of abilities?" a voice asked from the right of the group, though Hermione couldn't see who it was.

"Let's see," Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Ron, as I already mentioned, is the fear of flying. Everyone knows Harry Potter, right?" there were a lot of nods around the room. Even Draco looked a bit respectful at the mention of his name. Hermione had no doubt it was because of Harry's unbelievable Quidditch skills—a game played where people run around on brooms, trying to score points in the other team's goal. It was a bit silly, in Hermione's opinion, as she watched Ron and Harry running around like maniacs—it really would've been a much better game if they could fly—but the two of them seemed to enjoy it, so she let them be. "Harry's ability is the fear of lightening. He was about to apply for the fear of flying as well, but decided to let Ron have it."

It was so obvious that Ginny was in love.

"Two people can't have the same ability?" Hannah questioned.

"Of course they can, dear," Ginny responded. "There are not enough abilities for everyone in the world to have a separate one unless it is truly unique. However, I would recommend not sharing the same one with one of your friends. Only one of you can go on patrol at a time, and the other may feel rather left out." She smiled. "And you'll want to patrol with your friend. It makes it more fun."

Ginny made it sound like a game.

"So Mister Harry is a bit like Zeus?" Seamus asked, grinning. "He can play around with lightning bolts and all that? He can zap the enemies?"

"Something like that." Ginny shrugged. Hermione could see that she was trying to act nonchalant, but Hermione knew that Ginny knew a lot more about Harry's life than she was letting on. In fact, Hermione was sure that perhaps Ginny knew more about Harry than Harry himself did. The two of them always snuck away to have their own private conversations, leaving Hermione with Ron.

At first it was okay, especially when they started dating. But after they drifted apart and realized that things weren't right, it was awkward to be alone. In a group, it was still quite easy to joke around with him and be his friend, but once they were alone, the atmosphere between them seemed tenser than it had ever been before. She soon found herself constantly making up excuses to get away, and found that he did the same.

Hermione always wondered what would've happened between them if she hadn't asked him out on that fateful day. Not only had she invested in a relationship that didn't work, but she had made things worse between one of her closest friends in the world. She didn't know if they could ever go back to the way they were before, but she could only hope and pray that they would. However, the way things were going so far, they still had a long way to go.

"What about you, Miss Weasley?" Hannah asked curiously. "Have you turned twenty five yet?"

"Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady what her age is?" Dean sniggered, and Hannah flushed bright red, looking down at her hands and muttering an apology.

"But she's  _not_  a lady," Draco piped helpfully from the front of the room, looking very amused indeed.

Ginny ignored Draco. "That's alright, Hannah." She reassured the girl, though she still looked quite upset. "I will turn twenty five next year, but I already know which ability I want to have." She looked quite proud. "Ability of the bats."

"Bats?" Draco drawled slowly, looking bored. Ginny finally turned to him, acknowledging him, though Hermione knew there was no way she was going to defend herself against any nasty insults that he may spew. "That's pathetic. Who is afraid of bats?" Vincent and Gregory laughed dumbly.

"You clearly have never seen a swarm of bats, Draco," Hermione said, her eyes boring in to his. He cocked his head slightly to one side, an arrogant look on his face. She leaned a little closer, whispering quietly so that no one other than him could hear her. "Would you prefer that she turned into the spitting image of your father and came after you?"

That wiped the smirk off his face and he scowled, though Hermione did see a tinge of red dotting his pale cheeks—evidence of his embarrassment. Feeling quite satisfied, Hermione stood up straight again, but her happiness was short lived.

"Well then," Draco said nastily, " _You_ are a year older than her, aren't you? So this year is your initiation year," he glared at her. "What scary thing are you, then?" he sniggered. "The fear of failing a test? Everyone knows how much Hermione Granger hates failing tests."

"Draco," Ginny finally reprimanded, but the boy merely ignored her.

Draco's word did bring her back to the reality. Her initiation was soon,  _too_ soon, and she still had no idea what she wanted to be. Ginny, who was a year younger, already had it all planned out. Harry and Ron both figured out what ability they wanted to have back when they were still in middle school. Yet she, Hermione Granger, valedictorian extraordinaire, couldn't even make a decision as simple as this.

"I don't know," Hermione whispered, looking down at her hands. The class was completely silent now, and even Draco had managed to keep his mouth shut. Hermione felt water rising in her eyes, and determined not to cry in front of a bunch of kindergartners, blinked back the tears. "I just don't know."

_October 15 – 3:30 PM_

Hermione walked down the streets of Diagon Alley, still sulking.

Surprisingly enough, Draco had not told his father about her, as she still kept her job. She certainly would not have if Lucius had found out that she was scolding his son. She didn't know if Draco simply forgot or he was taking pity on her, though the fact that a  _kindergartner_  was taking pity on her did not make things better. And when that kindergartner was Draco, Hermione figured her situation had to be pretty desperate to come down to this.

Plus, this was Draco Malfoy they were talking about. She couldn't help but think that he had a hidden motive. The boy often tried to play dumb, but Hermione had been at the kindergarten long enough to know that he was actually quite clever and cunning. It wasn't necessarily a good kind of cunning—she had watched the boy manipulate things to go his way more than once—but it was good to know that he still had some brains under that arrogant image he liked to present.

Hermione felt rather embarrassed about her little episode in front of the class. She hardly ever cried, and such a silly little thing as Halloween could bring tears to her eyes. The Halloween thing had been on her mind for the past five years, and still she had not managed to find something that would suit her best. While everyone else, both the same age and younger, had prepared for their initiation, Hermione had to figure out what ability she wanted to possess.

It wasn't that big of a deal. Halloween only occurred once a year, anyway, so she wouldn't need to worry about it for the rest of the year. However, ever since she was little, Hermione had always prided herself in being a perfectionist. She would not go to the initiation unless she was absolutely sure she loved it and that it was perfect.

However, that was easier said than done.

Harry and Ron had tried to help her, of course. There was a special place for people who needed special help named St. Mungo's, where people were specialized in helping others who were having a hard time deciding. They had brought her there to talk with the therapists and others who worked there, but nothing seemed to work. Everything they came up with, it just didn't fit for Hermione. She left each meeting feeling even more frustrated than before, and after a couple of months, she just chose not to go.

She didn't want to blame either Harry or Ron. They had both been extremely supportive, and she understood they both had busy lives they had to live. Harry and Ron were already well known for their Quidditch playing skills, but Harry further enhanced his fame by charging in valiantly in to a burning building to help save eleven little kids that were trapped in there. Ron, while not as brave in the public's eye as Harry, had stood outside and dragged out any people who had collapsed. All the people in the building were saved, and though slightly hurt, Harry and Ron came out with big smiles on their faces.

They had both won a medal for their bravery, and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley became examples that people looked up to from all over the country. Not only for the fire fighters, but for everyone who wanted to do an act of kindness.

She would've been there as well and deserved all the fame, but she had stupidly decided to go out on a date with Viktor Krum, the bloody idiot not even appreciating it and falling asleep halfway. Because she missed the fire event, she was only known for her acquaintance with the heroes and not for being a hero herself, and that greatly irked her.

Hermione supposed that her mood wasn't mainly caused by Halloween. Sure, she was a bit let down that she still couldn't decide, but the main reason was because she felt that she was being left behind. Back when they were still in high school, the three of them were close, but it was clear that she was the brains behind everything. Harry and Ron couldn't exist without her to constantly keep them on track and get them out of trouble.

It seemed now, however, that ever since Ron and she broke up, she was drifting away from them. Now it was her who couldn't live without them. Ginny seemed to replacing her in the group seemingly effortlessly. Harry and Ginny would be dating soon—judging by the looks they gave each other when they thought others weren't looking—and she was Ron's sister. The three of them were already familiar enough with each other, and with each day passing, Hermione found herself to be more and more the outsider.

It had popped up one day, when the four of them were strolling down Diagon Alley, when Harry first mentioned something and the three of them had dissolved in a fit of giggles. Hermione had merely stared blankly, not knowing what they were laughing about. However, they merely waved her off and said it was an inside joke that she shouldn't bother herself with.

The only way inside jokes were funny was if you were inside of them.

The major shock, however, came when Harry and Ron went to their initiation without her. She had told them to go, of course, but they usually declined and waited for her. This time, however, they left her behind and that had been a huge blow to Hermione. She felt her heart sinking as they entered the room, laughing and teasing each other like brothers. She had been once included in that circle as well.

Now, her status as the big sister of the group had been replaced. She was, in fact, not really better than Ginny. Ginny could keep them in order when they started goofing off. Ginny could play Quidditch well, unlike her who didn't ever want to be caught running around on a broom. Ginny already knew what her ability would be even though her initiation wasn't for another year. Hermione was quite sure that the only area where she could beat Ginny was in intellect, but neither Harry nor Ron seemed to particularly care about that.

And of course, there was the fact that she thought she was failing. For once in her life, Hermione was not the first person to receive the initiation in her year—in fact, the way things were going now, she might even be the last. She simply couldn't understand. She had always been the smartest, and though she knew that decision making had little to do with her smarts, she couldn't help but want to be first anyway.

So wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn't even notice that she had stopped in front of a shady looking pub. It was different from Three Broomsticks, where she used to hang out with Harry and Ron every Saturday until they got too busy to come anymore. She told them it was fine, though it clearly wasn't. But, it seemed that after her breakup with Ron, they lost their ability to read her.

The Three Broomsticks had been the place where she could sit alone and drown her sorrows. It had been the place where she could run away to when she couldn't stand the emptiness of her apartment—the very same apartment that Ron and she used to share. However, she could use a change, and this looked like the right place to do so. The shop name was Leaky Cauldron, the name not coming off as familiar. Perhaps she had passed to the other side of the brick wall, because she was sure that she had been to all the stores in Diagon Alley multiple times already.

The bartender was cleaning off a glass, but looked up and nodded at her when she entered. She quickly sat in the corner, trying to avoid attention. There were a couple of people sitting at the tables, but mostly the pub was empty. Hermione supposed that in a couple of hours, there would be more people crowding the place.

Thankfully, no one stopped to stare and whisper about her. She had been to too many places where people immediately associated her with Ron, and their breakup. She didn't blame him; the two of them had been drifting apart when he called it off, but she couldn't help but hate the fact that everyone was making her to be the bad guy. After all, they all reasoned, he was Ron Weasley. Of course it's the girl's fault; what can Ron Weasley do wrong?

After ordering a firewhiskey, Hermione leaned back against her chair and closed her eyes, just listening to the hushed whispering of the people in the pub. It was oddly more relaxing than the Three Broomsticks, where there were so many people that there was hardly any silence. In this shady little bar, there was not as much hype and Hermione could hear soft music playing in the background.

Hermione tipped her glass back, but opened her eyes and found that her firewhiskey was completely gone. Sighing, she was about to stand up when, by chance, her eyes accidentally strayed to the level above. It was dark, so it was hard for Hermione to see, but she could see two figures standing close to each other.  
One of them was sitting behind a desk, looking quite bored. She had curly black hair that blended in with the shadows, and she was tapping her hand on the desk impatiently, her nails clicking against the smooth surface. She didn't seem to be paying too much attention to the boy in front of her.

The other person Hermione recognized from high school. Neville Longbottom was named the wimpiest kid in the grade, and everyone made fun of him. Hermione had helped him on occasion, but other than that she didn't have any other experience with him. She recalled, though, that he had been especially good at biology. He was shifting around nervously. Hermione wondered what he was doing up there. There was a door behind the woman, which she guarded rather possessively. Hermione wondered what exactly was behind that door. Gold? Riches? Was Neville striking a deal with her to get them? Hermione shrugged that thought off; this was Neville Longbottom they were talking about. He would never do something like that.

"Hello, Hermione,"

Hermione nearly jumped a mile, before turning around and seeing Luna Lovegood, who smiled dreamily at her. She invited herself to sit down, her blond hair sticking out in such a dark pub. She looked quite content, and Hermione's eyes strayed down to her finger, where a wedding band resided.

"Hello, Luna," Hermione greeted. Luna had attended the same her high school as well, though she had always been a little bit crazy. People gave her the nickname of Looney Lovegood, but she never seemed to care what other people said about her, which was something Hermione admired about her. Out of the three of them, Harry was the closest to her, though Hermione had no clue what they ever talked about. Whenever she tried to make conversation with Luna, she found that it was too hard to maintain it and understand what she was saying. "Congratulations. Who's the lucky guy?"

"Neville," Luna said, eyes shining. Hermione distinctively recalled receiving an invitation, but refusing to go because she did not want to waste time at such a petty event that she would be sitting out for nearly the whole thing anyway. Now, she felt rather guilty of not attending, and even more so at her train of thought. It occurred to her that she was starting to cut herself off from the world, too worried about Halloween and what she was going to do about her life. "I heard about Ron. Was it the Nargles?"

Hermione felt her heart clench a little at his name. "The Nargles?" she managed to ask.

"Yes," Luna sighed. "Nargles are such awful creatures, aren't they? Ripping apart relationships and causing mischief everywhere." She pointed. "They're in the air, everywhere."

Hermione just stared at her blankly, not trying to decipher her cryptic message. "Do you know what Neville is doing up there?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the curiosity out of her voice so that she didn't seem like she was prying.

"He's seeing Tom, of course."

"Tom?" Hermione repeated, the name not coming off as familiar. "Who is this Tom?"

Luna merely looked at her. "You don't know Tom? Oh dear. Everyone knows Tom. He is the one who heads all initiations." Again, with the initiation. With Halloween fast approaching, that would be the only thing people talked about soon. "Neville needs some help deciding, so Tom was kind enough to set up an appointment to help him."

Hermione's ears instantly perked up. "Wait, you're saying that this Tom guy helps people decide what they want to be for Halloween?" she asked. Her hopes were already rising; if this was true, she could schedule an appointment with him, and maybe she could finally relieve her five years of worrying.

"Of course. Oh, there goes Neville." There was a loving look in her eyes as she watched her husband enter the room. "He has helped many people before. They all give him very high praise." She stared off in to space for a while, looking thoughtful. "He helped Myrtle become a ghost. She shrieks quite beautifully."

Hermione, personally, did not think of Myrtle's screaming and crying to be anything less than horrid, but didn't say so. She, however, didn't know that she had been helped with her decision; Myrtle always looked rather ghostlike.

"Charlie Weasley went to him to become a dragon," Luna continued. "Tom works fast. Neville should be coming out in a couple of minutes." She smiled at Hermione. "Tom is simply wonderful."

Hermione nodded; he already sounded wonderful. "What about you?" she asked, just to make conversation. She couldn't thank Luna enough for telling her about Tom. "What is your ability?"

"The fear of becoming insane," she sang melodiously, a dreamy look on her face. "I am very busy on Halloween. There are many blubbering humdingers that are afraid of losing their mind, apparently."

"Blubbering humdingers," Hermione repeated. After years of listening to Luna's strange terminology, she found that she still had not yet gotten used to it."That's an interesting way to put them."

"It is," Luna agreed. "Look, here comes Neville."

Hermione was pleasantly surprised that it had ended so quickly. She decided she would go up there now and meet him, and maybe by the time she left, he would've already solved her problem for her. Neville certainly looked a lot happier as he leaned down to kiss his wife, before looking up and smiling.

"Hello, Hermione. It's been a long time."

"It has," Hermione nodded. "How did your appointment go?"

"Very well," Neville's smile widened as he looked down at his wife. "He told me my ability was a piranha and told me to show up for the initiation next week." He shrugged. "Apparently, there's a video game where the piranha is quite scary indeed. I'll have to search that up later."

"Piranha," Luna repeated, a loving look on her face. Hermione doubted that she had even heard a word that Neville said; the two of them were clearly in love. Just like Ginny and Harry were. Just like she and Ron had not been. Just like she wanted desperately to be. "How lovely."

"Not as lovely as you," Neville teased, tickling her before picking her up bridal style. The love was nearly coming off in thick waves now. "We'll see you around, Hermione," before she could do anything other than wave and smile, the two of them were gone, leaving a thoughtful Hermione behind them.

_October 15 – 4:00 PM_

After spending a long time wandering in circles, Hermione finally managed to find the stairs up to the second floor and now stood in front of the woman sitting at her desk. Her name plate said Bellatrix, and she was doing the best she could to ignore Hermione.

"Excuse me," Hermione tried, but Bellatrix paid her no mind as she continued to scribble down something on a piece of parchment. Hermione tapped her foot impatiently and waited, thinking that maybe the woman would acknowledge her once she was done writing.

However, that was not the case. Once Bellatrix finished filling out a form, she started with the next one, not even looking up once. She worked silently and effectively, and Hermione absentmindedly noticed that her nails were painted black. Gritting her teeth, Hermione tried again, this time a little louder, "Excuse me, Miss."

Still no response. Hermione could feel her anger bubbling up inside of her. She had never taken being ignored well. In high school, when Lavender Brown had ignored her while she was lecturing, Hermione had spent the rest of the school year making sure she outwitted and embarrassed Lavender as much as she could. Ron eventually took pity on the girl and told Hermione to cut it out, and that had been the first time Hermione and Ron had fought. She released a cage of birds on him until he decided to swallow his pride and apologize.

Nevertheless, people learned quite quickly that ignoring Hermione Granger was not a good idea.

When Bellatrix kept working, Hermione decided that it was enough. If she didn't want to give her an appointment, that was fine, but it was unjustified to just ignore her. She slammed her hand down on Bellatrix's parchment and leaned in so they were face to face, their noses almost touching. " _Excuse me_ ," she said harshly, glaring at her.

Bellatrix jutted her chin, finally acknowledging her. "What the hell do you want?" she asked, her voice raspy. "Can't you see I'm busy here?" She glared at Hermione's hand, which was still on Bellatrix's parchment. "Get your hand off my paper or I will break your fingers one by one." The look on her face assured Hermione that there was serious weight to that threat.

Hermione wasn't fazed by that threat, but removed her hand anyways. "I want an appointment with Tom." She said.

"Tom?" Bellatrix cackled, looking like Hermione had something very funny. Hermione just blinked, surprised at the sudden mood change. "Who the hell do you think you are, to call him Tom? Let me tell you something, bitch," Hermione glared at her. "Tom is too good for someone like you. Leave him alone."

"I wasn't asking for him to marry me," Hermione retorted. "All I want is an appointment with him. If you won't give it to me, I will just go in and ask him myself." Normally, she wouldn't resort to threats, but with Halloween approaching, she really had to try anything she could. That, and this woman was annoying her, so she figured that this kind of treatment was acceptable.

Bellatrix hissed, and Hermione felt her mind being flood with images of blood and torture. She had experienced this kind of sensation before, because both Harry and Ron had experimented on her mind to see if their acts were convincing or not. Hermione couldn't blame the Death Eaters for running away in fright. It was rather scary when you didn't know it was just a mere hallucination.

She strengthened her mind—a class that she had started studying called Occlumency had taught this—and she pushed the images out of her mind. She grinned smugly at a rather startled Bellatrix. She was about to tell her that she had just broken fifty laws, but decided not to waste her time doing so. "Thank you very much for your generosity," she said sweetly, and before Bellatrix could do anything other than stare, Hermione pushed past her and entered the room.

It was a rather big room, though other than the door she entered through, there were no other exits or windows. Stacks of books were placed on either of the room, and Hermione almost drooled just by looking at them. In the center of the room sat someone who Hermione assumed was Tom, though she couldn't see him because his back was to her and the back of the chair was blocking her view.

"Bellatrix," Tom said smoothly, his voice melodious. "Did I not tell you that I was not to be disturbed until dinner?"

"I'm sorry," Hermione responded, not knowing what title she should give him. Mister? Dr.? She did not know. "I'm not Bellatrix. My name is Hermione Granger and I have an appointment with you right now."

There was a pause. Then, "Do you really? Interesting." He sounded amused. "Bellatrix must have made a mistake, then, seeing as how Longbottom was my last appointment of the day." Something in his voice, though, told Hermione that he already knew.

"Oh," Hermione said stupidly. "I, er, just made the appointment right now."

"Right now?" Hermione could almost hear him raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, about a minute ago."

"And Bellatrix let you do that, did she?"

Hermione was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Maybe barging in recklessly hadn't been the best idea. "No, she refused to let me in because she misunderstood my reasons for wanting to see you," Hermione explained, her statement sounding rather foolish to her own ears. "So I just kind of barged in."

He was definitely amused now. She couldn't see his face, but his voice said everything. "What reason did she think for you wanting to see me?" she could hear the smirk in his voice. It was obvious, though, that he already knew. "You will have to excuse her. Bellatrix has always been rather possessive," Tom said, and then he turned around.

It took all of Hermione's restraint for her jaw to not drop to the floor. Not only was he handsome, his black hair perfectly combed to one side, his cheekbones high and his eyes dark, but he also looked to be just the same age as she was.

He was the leader of the whole initiation process, which must have meant that he was quite powerful indeed. And to think he was about the same age as her.

"I understand that you are in love with me already," Tom's snarky tone brought her back from her thoughts. "Though I am sure if you keep staring intently, you will go blind." He shrugged. "It has happened before."

Just like that, he was the ugliest beast that she had ever seen. "A little bit of modesty would do well on you," she sniped, glaring at him.

Instead of looking angry, however, he just smirked at her. "Now, now, settle down," he said. "Is that how you talk to someone who you want to help you?" He cocked his head to one side, eyes roaming up and down her body, as if sizing her up. He looked like he was looking for something, but he must have not found it, because he narrowed his eyes and said, "I am not obliged to do anything for you."

"You're right," Hermione said, and then invited herself to sit in the chair opposite of him. He raised his eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "Alright, where do you want to start?"

"No apology?"

Hermione blinked, and then narrowed her eyes. "I have nothing to apologize for."

His insufferable smirk was back on his face as he looked at her, his eyes boring in to her own. "Very well, then, Hermione Granger," he said calmly. It occurred to Hermione that other than amusement, no other emotion had appeared on his face. Perhaps he was good at concealing it. "What are some hobbies of yours?"

Hermione blinked, rather confused. She had been expecting some big and explosive questioning, not some small talk. "I like to read," she confessed. When he continued to look at her, she shrugged. "I guess that's it."

"And your fears?"

"Failing a test," Hermione shrugged. He raised an eyebrow, looking quite amused. Hermione, thinking that he was going to laugh at her, hurriedly continued, "Not only failing a test, but not pleasing teachers. Being ignored by other people, especially my professors." She shrugged.

He didn't comment on her rather bizarre list. Instead, he continued, "Who are you friends with?"

"Ginny and Ron Weasley," Hermione said, unsure why he was asking her this. "And Harry Potter." She was looking down at her hands and missed the way Tom flinched at Harry's name. "I have a couple of friends from middle school that I see now and then, but these are my closest friends." She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Did Potter send you to come spy on me?" Tom hissed, his face immediately changing in to a terrifyingly ugly look. His eyes shifted back and forth, from black to red, and then back again. His skin seemed to become paler, and his fingers longer and skinnier.

However, instead of cowering like he had doubt expected her to, Hermione merely crossed her arms and scowled at him. "Harry did not send me to do anything," she sniffed. "I am here by myself. The only motive I have is to seek your help."

"Ah, your little Halloween problem," he sniggered darkly. "That's right. What would you be?" he pretended to ponder. "Maybe someone who specialized in the fear of failing a test? I'm sure business will be booming for you." He laughed cruelly.

Hermione, who had begun to feel a little nervous at his sudden change of mood, slowly stood up. "Well, thank you for your time," she said hesitantly, taking small steps backwards as if he couldn't see that she was walking away from him. "But I can see that you're busy, so I'll let you be." She could feel the door handle underneath her hand and she twisted it slowly. His eyes were tracking her, and from her angle, they looked as dark as the depths of hell.

Hermione wondered where things had gone wrong. Neville had said that Tom had helped him. Luna had spoken quite highly of Tom, saying that he had helped many people before. Did she accidentally come in to the wrong room? But she had seen Neville go through this door and this was the only room that appeared. There were no more rooms that were connected.

So Tom had to be the same person, then. What had she done to deserve this? Was it because she was a bookworm? Somehow, she thought that he must be the same as her. She had never seen anyone else with as many books as he did.

He moved faster than she had ever seen anyone move before. Before she could get the door open, he slammed in to her, pinning her against the door, which clicked shut behind her. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at her. Though he seemed to be back to his original state, Hermione still didn't trust him and began to squirm around, trying to get him to let go of her.

"Stop," he commanded. When she didn't, he sighed and said, "You will have to excuse my behavior," his voice was back to its smooth and pleasant state, rather than that ugly hiss she had heard just seconds ago, though Hermione noticed that it was not an apology from him. She didn't expect one. "Potter is a touchy subject for me."

Despite the feeling of danger, Hermione couldn't help but be curious. "What has Harry ever done to you?" Harry had never mentioned anyone named Tom before.

"The better question is what has he not done," Tom said. Though he was obviously angered by Harry, he was apparently trying to not let it show on his face. However, it didn't comfort Hermione; he was still pinning her to the wall, and she had never been so close to a boy before, except Ron. She was starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable. "He always ruins my plans."

Harry didn't seem like that type of person. He would've told her about it if he did. Or would he? Now that she thought about it, it seemed plausible; they were drifting apart, so he had less and less of a reason to tell her. He could always just confide in Ginny and Ron—there was almost no need for him to continue to tell her.

"Have you heard of the fire at Hogwarts?"

Hermione blinked, and then narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I have," she said carefully. A suspicion was already building in her mind, but she asked anyways, "And what do you have to do with it?"

Tom tossed out carelessly, "I caused it."

Hermione stared, not believing what she heard. She hadn't expected her suspicion to be true. On top of that, for a man to just confess that he did such a malicious deed was surprising to her. Why would he tell  _her_? "You  _caused_ it?" she repeated. "You caused the fire that almost killed eleven children staying there during the summer?"

"The very one," Tom grinned, looking quite pleased with himself. "They would have all burned as well, if Potter hadn't gotten in my way." He sighed. "No worries, though. I have personally taken care of all of them. It was a shame that Potter got away, but I will get him someday. He cannot constantly thwart my plans. It is very tiresome."

"You  _killed_  them?" Hermione asked incredulously, ignoring his death threat to Harry.

"Of course I did," his eyes bore in to hers. "I received notice that the Death Eaters were residing in the school. I could not separate them from the regular children. You should know that they only show their true side once a year on Halloween," In fact, she did know, but she remained silent. "I couldn't wait that long." He shrugged. "It is better for all of them to be dead than for the Death Eaters to live and reproduce."

Hermione was scandalized. "You killed all of them just because you couldn't distinguish the difference?" she asked, her eyes open wide. "You can't do that! What if there was only one Death Eater in the mix of eleven children? You would've just killed ten perfectly innocent kids!"

Tom narrowed his eyes and pinned her even more tightly to the door, placing his hands on either side of her head. "Death Eaters reproduce abnormally fast." He said slowly. "If you let one live, you'll wake up the next day with fifty more."

Hermione, however, did not miss the evil glint in his eyes. "You enjoyed killing them," she said. "You enjoyed killing all of them, including the children." She thought of the little kids, screaming and crying, her heart immediately clenching. While she thought some kids were clearly too spoiled and selfish, she didn't wish  _death_  upon them.

"Can't deny that," Tom shrugged. "There was always something that intrigued me with the screams and the cries."

Hermione looked at him, disgusted. "You are a sick man,"

"Am I?" Tom looked amused, leaning in so close so that she could almost feel him. His warm breath splayed across her face, causing goose bumps to appear on her skin. Judging by his chuckle, he had seen them. "I would reserve that judgment for later, Hermione Granger." His voice turned in to a whisper, so quiet that Hermione almost missed his words. "You haven't seen the worst of me yet."

Then, he began changing once again. She could see him—though this time, she was unsure whether it was real or just a hallucination—change in to a bald, snakelike man with red eyes and slits for noses. His presence was strong as well, dark waves flowing freely off of his body. It almost hurt to be so close to him. His fingers, now long and spider-like, twirled a piece of her hair. She yanked it out of his grasp, and he laughed.

His voice came out as a soft hiss when he spoke. "Are you afraid of me, Hermione Granger?" she looked in to his blood red eyes and did not see anything. There was no emotion, no remorse, no nothing. He had become just an empty shell.

Was this what his ability was? The fear of becoming an ugly, empty corpse?

"I despise you," she said clearly, only to be met with the sound of his chuckles. She could tell that he didn't believe her. Hermione ignored them and continued on, "I despise you, but I'm not afraid of you." To prove her point, she jabbed him in the ribs with a finger and tilted her head slightly, as if challenging him to hurt her.

However, he didn't do anything of that sort. Instead, he cocked his head to one side, his voice soft, and said, "Are you sure?" he leaned in. His features changed back and forth, between the bald monster and the handsome young man so fast that Hermione couldn't tell when which started and where the other ended. His lips barely an inch away from her own, and she could almost  _feel_  his smirk.

"I am not afraid of you," she declared loudly, and he looked very amused. She glared at him. "I am  _not_ ," she said again for emphasis. "And I am  _never_  coming back here." She pushed him off of her, and this time he let her, leaning back against the wall. She opened the door and stomped outside, being sure to slam the door as hard as she could, though she could still hear Tom's laughter following all the way out of the room.

_October 17 – 8:45 PM_

"Are you sure this is right?"

"This is the only way," Ginny sighed. "You saw her, Harry. She's been sulking for the past week. It's time for her to come out and have some fun." She eyed the glasses of beer on the table. "She's always rigid. It's not good for her if she doesn't come get some fresh air once in a while."

"You tricked her," Harry accused. "You told her that it would be a date with Ron." He looked worriedly at her friend, who was sitting alone in Three Broomsticks. All around her were people celebrating the coming of Halloween, but she alone was in the booth in the corner. They had seen many men approach her, but instead of engaging in a conversation and debating with them like she normally did, she simply waved them off and went back to staring in to space.

"I didn't expect her to actually come," Ginny shrugged. "It shows that she's still hung up on Ron."

"Tricking her isn't winning you any brownie points, Gin," Harry rolled her eyes. "If you truly cared that much about her, you would try to talk to her, instead of setting her up with a date to do the talking for you."

Ginny frowned. "What's wrong with you today?"

"I've been unfair to her recently, Gin. She's been dealing with the pressure of choosing an ability, and on top of that she receives some unwanted attention after her breakup. That's a lot to deal with."

Ginny sighed, placing her hand in his. "It's been rough, Harry. I've been trying to help her as best as I can as well, but she always seems to be in a bad mood. And then last week, she comes home all grouchy and ignores me. I thought it was because Lucius had gotten to her, but that was not it. Though," Ginny said thoughtfully. "She goes around mumbling 'that bloody idiot.' I thought she was talking about either you or Ron."

"I haven't seen her in a long time," Harry admitted. "And I'm sure that Ron will tell me if he went to meet her, especially if he screwed up so badly." He glanced back at his friend. "She just needs to get out some more and get her mind off of things. There's still a while before Halloween; plenty of time for her to think." A sudden thought occurred to him. "Gin," Harry said slowly, looking at her suspiciously. "Who exactly did you set her up with?"

Ginny grinned mysteriously, the look that made him fall in love with her in the first place. "Who knows."

"Ginny, she's  _drinking_. Do you honestly think it's wise to get her a date when she's like that? She's never been drunk in her life. What do you think she'll do? What if her alcohol tolerance is extremely low?"

"Don't worry, the person I wrote to is an extremely well-known gentleman. There's no way anything could happen to Hermione. She's responsible enough. Besides, we'll be watching her the whole time."

"I don't feel right," Harry frowned, though he didn't do anything to oppose it. "Is it Ron? Did you honestly ask Ron to come here?"

Ginny shrugged. "We'll see."

In the booth in the corner, Hermione Granger was having a worse time than the two spying on her in the shadows.

She had drunk at least five cups of firewhiskey already, but it did not make her feel better. In fact, it clouded her mind so she had a hard time preventing her vision from becoming double.  
She had gotten that note from Ron that told her to meet him here, though it was obvious that it wasn't Ron who wrote it. After dating him and correcting his homework in high school for so many years, she knew what his style was like. She had a feeling that either Harry or Ginny might have written it and told Ron to come here to meet her. She didn't want Ron to come like that, because Harry asked him to. She wanted him to come talk to her by himself without any persuasion.

She couldn't help but think that life really sucked for her.

A man stepped up to her table and she said, "I'm sorry Ron. This is all Harry's fault. I know that you really don't want to come here and meet me, but he made me. We can both just go and explain to him—" she broke off and narrowed her eyes. " _You_."

"Me," Tom said calmly, sitting down uninvited in the seat opposite of her. Hermione glared at him, but he didn't take the hint to leave, and instead made himself comfortable. "I knew you liked me, but that note was, shall we say, a bit desperate?" there was an amused glint in his eyes as he regarded her.

Hermione wondered what embarrassing that note said, and vowed to get her hands on Harry and kill him later for getting her in to such an awkward position. Knowing Harry, he no doubt thought he was doing her a favor. "I didn't write it," Hermione said hotly. "I never would've offered to spend time with you." A smirk was all she got in return. Deciding to burst his happy little bubble, she grinned and said, "Harry wrote it, actually."

That did the trick; his amused expression was instantly wiped away and replaced with an ugly look. " _Potter_  wrote it?" he snarled. "Damn him."

"Yes," Hermione got up to her feet woozily. "I'll go yell at him for both of us when I have a chance." She pretended to glance down at her watch to check the time, but remembered that she had left her watch at home. Tom sniggered. "It's getting late so I should get going."

"No you don't," he grabbed on to her wrist, and smiled sweetly at her when she glared at him. "People are staring already," Indeed they were. Trust him to flaunt his status everywhere. "Don't you want to be famous?"

"Not like this," Hermione scowled. "If I become famous, I want to do it on my own and not with the help of other people."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "One would think that with that train of thought, you would pick better company to hang out with." Hermione merely glared, but didn't say anything. Tom smirked. "If you do not sit down," he said, "I'll assure you that you'll get the exact opposite of what you want." His voice became ridiculously high pitched, though Hermione supposed that it had a strange resemblance to Rita Skeeter's annoying voice. " _First girl to ever reject Tom Riddle._ " He snickered, not looking bothered by that fact. "You'll be famous before you get home. Your apartment will be flooded with reporters. Your deepest and darkest secrets will be out in the public."

Hermione frowned, but took his advice and sat down. "Why don't you just walk away then?"

Tom sniggered. "That would get you even more fame, would it not?" He sighed. "Rejection hurts, Hermione." It was the first time he said her name, and she couldn't help but notice how easily it rolled off his tongue.

Hermione felt her face go read. "I can handle rejection," she argued hotly.

Tom eyed the glasses of firewhiskey scattered on the table. "Sure you can."

"No, really," she grabbed his arm. Perhaps she had a bit too much to drink, but she wasn't thinking clearly anymore. "I really  _can_."

"Never doubted you," there was amusement laced in his voice. Hermione tried to flag over the waitress, but ended up nearly falling in to his lap. Tom snorted. "I think that's enough for you." He said, holding her glass too far away for her to get.

"Why did you ask me all those personal questions?" she asked, still attempting to get her glass. When she couldn't, she pouted and sat back, scowling. "It didn't help me  _at all_. Stupid waste of time."

"That's because you ran away before I could finish," Tom commented dryly. To her amazement, he placed her cup to his mouth and finished her firewhiskey, smirking as he put the now empty glass back on the table. Hermione stared sadly at it.

"You were asking personal questions," Hermione pointed out, still a little surprised by the fact that her glass was now empty and Tom had finished it for her. "It had nothing to do with anything."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "I use the information I gather to help me decide which ability would be best suited for you," he responded icily. "If you have any criticism on how I do my work, perhaps you should try to do it yourself." His eyes raked over her form, and he smirked cruelly. "That is, if you can do it yourself first."

Hermione scowled and crossed her arms. "You determine what fear a person should be based on their hobbies and their friends?"

"On contrary to what you might think," Tom said smoothly. "It is quite effective. It is much more realistic this way." He rolled his eyes. "Not everyone can be as good of an actor as I am to deliver such a convincing performance." Hermione raised her eyebrows, but if he saw, he didn't respond to it. "It makes my job easier. Everyone needs a hobby."

"What's yours?"

His lips curled up. "Resurrection."

Hermione was silent, pondering for a moment. What could he possibly mean by that? However, she had a feeling that he wouldn't answer her if she asked, so instead she said, "Fear of death?"

"Yes," an arrogant look appeared on his face. "Everyone is afraid of death. I can control anyone that I could possibly want to." He smirked. "Even Saint Potter."

Hermione eyed him with distaste. "Is that your whole goal? To control the world?"

"Of course," Tom said smugly. "Why else would I bother else wise? To  _help_  the people?" A cruel, malicious smirk stretched out on his face. "Of course it was for my own benefit. People are just pawns I use to strengthen my status."

He seemed to be almost  _proud_  of it. However, Hermione was still rather confused as to why he was telling her about this. She wasn't on his side, she wasn't powerful and she certainly wasn't his confident. Perhaps he was betting on the fact that she was drunk and would forget everything later?

"I could turn you in," Hermione retorted, narrowing her eyes.

"Feel free," Tom didn't look concerned at all. "Even if you draped yourself all over Potter, you would still not be as famous as I am," Hermione scowled at him. "This world is based on fame. Famous people have all the credibility." He raised his eyebrow as if challenging her to prove him wrong. "No one would believe you."

Hermione wanted to argue, but she found his point to be completely true.

"On top of that, out of the  _goodness_  of my heart," Tom snickered loudly. "However you look at it, I  _am_  helping the country by getting rid of Death Eaters," he looked thoughtful. "I wonder what will happen once the mastermind behind the project is gone? How long before everyone is captured?"

"Don't be silly; we can take care of ourselves without you."

He raised an eyebrow. " _Can_  you?" she nodded. "Would you like to risk it?"

Hermione pondered for a moment, and then scowled. "Fine, you have a point. I guess I'll let you live to see another day."

"Going to execute me yourself, I see,"

"I was thinking about it," Hermione shrugged. "Too much work though."

Tom looked at her, his eyes raking up and down her body. They had a calculating look in them as he regarded her thoughtfully. Hermione felt slightly nervous under his scrutinizing gaze, and she placed a hand on her leg to keep it from shaking.

"Hermione Granger," his lips curled up. "Would you like the honor of becoming my assistant?"

"Assistant?" Hermione sputtered, looking at him horrified. "You want me to help you take over the world? Just because I'm not going to report you doesn't mean I approve of it. Of course I won't!" He opened his mouth, but she put a hand up. "Don't even offer, because I won't accept!"

Tom sniggered at her dramatic reaction. " _You_  can't help me much in that perspective. I would go to Potter before I ever approached you," Hermione glared at him, his statement stinging her pride. "I was referring to the Death Eaters,"

"I thought that I couldn't help you very much in that perspective either," Hermione mocked him, still scowling angrily.

"I don't need someone to fight them off. I have the whole country doing that for me," his insufferable smirk was back. Hermione supposed it was true; he had the entire country at his disposal. "If you haven't noticed, the Death Eaters are getting smarter. They avoided capture on Halloween, which is why some could hide in Hogwarts. They're starting to get past the Aurors."

"Feeling sorry for those innocent children you killed there?"

Tom looked at her like it was the most bizarre thing she could've said. "Why would I feel sorry?" He looked truly puzzled, and Hermione decided to drop it. She had a feeling he wouldn't understand even if she explained it.

"So you're looking for a way to get rid of the Death Eaters easily, and you want someone to help you look," Hermione clarified, and Tom nodded. Hermione just stared at him. "Are you admitting that your method that you came up with isn't perfect?" she jeered.

Tom rolled his eyes. "They came to me in three in the morning and were willing to take whatever nonsense I spouted. They were really desperate. I did not expect them to be pathetic enough to keep the idea, though it did get me a nice dose of fame I did not ask for," his lips curled up.

"That's horrible. You're horrible."

A look of mock hurt was on his face. "How am I terrible? I helped save the country. I am a hero."

"Heroes don't burn down buildings with children in them just because they're too lazy to find a better way to do it."

"You wound me, Hermione," he smirked. "It took a lot of serious thought to make such a brave decision. To be willing to sacrifice for the benefit of the entire country."

"That's easy to say when you weren't one of the people being sacrificed."

Tom's lips curled up. "Will you accept or will you not?" When she didn't respond and continued to stare at him suspicious, he added, "Why don't you go ask Bellatrix? I'm sure she'll be  _happy_  to tell you."

" _Bellatrix_  applied for the job as well?"

"Yes, and sadly for her, she's made me angry too many times." Tom looked thoughtful. "She'll be trying again after Halloween is over this year, and who knows," Tom whistled innocently. "She might get the job and keep it this time."

Hermione thought about it. There wasn't anything wrong with it. She could tolerate a couple of hours a day in his presence. Plus, he had proved himself to be quite intelligent—evil motives, of course, but still intelligent.

She just spent her days sulking around the house, so this might give her a welcomed distraction. Hermione also had a suspicion that Tom used Bellatrix's name to taunt her, and unfortunately, it worked; Hermione was filled with the sudden desire to beat her.

"Very well then," she said in her best business tone. Tom smirked back at her. "We will give it a shot." She held out her hand formally, and Tom shook it, an amused look on his face.

Let the games begin.

_October 31 – 10:00 PM_

"Hermione?" Ron sputtered, staring in shock. Harry, who stood next to him, was faring much better, but a look of surprise was still written on his face. "Is that  _you_?"

"Of course it's me," Hermione scoffed. "Don't I look handsome?"

She looked down at herself. She didn't think she looked  _too_  badly; she was dressed up as a traditional prince on Tom's request. She wore a wig with short hair and, once again under Tom's request, a large crown had been placed on her head. She  _felt_  royal.

"What are you  _doing_  here?" Ron asked, bewildered, still looking quite scandalized. "You never come out during Halloween. You always stay home and study."  _And you didn't take your initiation yet, so you're not an Auror_ ,  _I thought you'd be sulking._ Hermione could almost hear him say.

She had decided not to tell her friends about her little deal with Tom. She didn't know why. It was hardly because she was ashamed of him—it would make more sense if it were the other way around. She thought perhaps she wanted to keep him to herself for the time being, not to share him with unnecessary probing and questioning of her friends. And she certainly did not want it to be public, though by the evil glares that Bellatrix was giving her every time she entered Tom's office, she figured that it would only be a matter of time before everyone found out.

Hermione supposed that accepting his deal had been one of the best and worst things that had ever happened to her. On the bright side, she spent her days in his office, researching with him. He was the most intelligent individual she had ever met, and if she swallowed her pride, she would even say that he was smarter than her. He understood things with ease, and during their debates, words would flow out of his mouth effortlessly, presenting valid points that Hermione tried hard to counter. On the flip side, she didn't have time to work on her own projects as she spent a majority of time on the Death Eaters, but she figured those other ones could wait.

Tom was still as insensitive as the day she had met him. He seemed to have no sense of morality, still continuing to talk about killing and seriously hurting many people, including Harry. Had it been earlier, she might've called their sessions off. However, already deeply intrigued by him and his intelligence, Hermione decided she could listen to his insensible comments as long as she got to continue being his assistant. Since he had not carried out any of the evil plans he voiced, Hermione figured that she could let it slide.

Hermione did her best imitation of Draco's drawl, casting a look of boredom on her face. "Study? Who needs to study?" She rolled her eyes. "I'm rich enough already. I don't need to waste my time reading books when I'm successful enough."

The looks on her friend's faces were priceless. Perhaps if she kept this act up, she might even win the award for scaring the most people. It seemed to be quite effective so far, as it had frightened both Harry and Ron. And they had both seen quite a few scary things in their lives that hardly anything fazed them anymore.

Harry recovered first, and he said, "Since you're the prince, is there a princess to go with this?" Ron, Hermione noticed, was trying his best—and failing—to not look interested in her answer. She almost raised an eyebrow.  _Interesting._

She had given it a lot of thought, and she had decided that no matter how much she liked Ron, she would not ruin their friendship even more by trying to date him again. It had not worked before, so why would it work now? She would focus her energy instead on repairing everything that they had lost instead of trying to do something new. His friendship was worth so much more to her than any attempt at romance could ever be.

Besides, she had already started developing a teensy little crush on someone else.

Hermione glanced over at Ron's house, where a sparkling pink fairy princess was going up the stairs. Tom Riddle, true to his words, had agreed to dress up as such in exchange for her running down the streets in only her lingerie. Hermione figured that she still had time to weasel out of her part of the deal, and besides, this scene was too hilarious to pass up for anything.

He wore a pink tutu, laced with glitter and sparkly ribbons. He wore pink ballerina flats, tights and a small pink tiara was placed on his head. She had wanted to make him wear wings as well, but he drew the line there, saying that any more accessories and she would have to run down the streets completely naked. While she wanted him to wear some more, she decided it wasn't worth it; it was already funny enough.

Harry and Ron glanced over, recognition dawning their faces. They were all quite powerful men, so it was only natural they knew about each other. Hermione wondered if Harry knew about the hatred that Tom harbored for him. If she didn't know better, she might even call it an obsession.

"Hello," Mrs. Weasley beamed as she opened the door. If she thought of Tom's costume to be weird in anyway, she didn't comment on it. Instead, she simply said, "You look adorable. Would you like some candy?"

"Yes please," Tom said in a squeakily high voice, and Hermione raised her eyebrow. Had it not been for his face, he could've passed off for a girl quite well. Mrs. Weasley dumped some pieces of candy in his little bag—which was actually hers that he stole—and smiled at him. "Thank you very much, Missus."

He must've truly wanted to fulfill his end of the bargain. Never once, in the two weeks that she had worked together with him, had he ever thanked her or asked nicely. It sounded rather strange coming from his mouth.

Mrs. Weasley stared at him. "Excuse me, dear, but do I know you from somewhere?"

"Me?" Tom cocked his head to one side, feigning and innocent expression on his face. At the same time, Ginny came down from upstairs, drying off her hair as she prepared to go do her shift of Auror duties. She froze when she saw him, her mouth open and her eyes wide. Tom resumed his trademark smirk, which looked quite comical going together with his costume.

" _You!_ " Ginny pointed at him, her finger shaking slightly.

"Ginny dear?" Mrs. Weasley looked at her daughter, a look of concern on her face. "What's the matter, honey? Do you know him?"

"Molly," Tom said smoothly, instantly sliding back in to his charming demeanor. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tom Riddle, the founder of the Halloween program, the wealthiest and most powerful person in the country and," he had a smug look on his face. "The person who rejected your daughter back in tenth grade."

Leave it to Tom to boast about things like these.

"Ginny! Didn't I tell you to always tell me these things?" Mrs. Weasley scolded her daughter, who immediately look mortified and tried to hide behind the door. Harry and Ron both looked similarly surprised; Hermione guessed it wasn't common knowledge. Ginny looked truly embarrassed by it, and Hermione didn't blame her; Tom wasn't known for sugarcoating anything. In fact, he might have been the bluntest person she had ever met.

She wasn't sure how it ended, or how it even started. Tom had told her about the incident beforehand, but he was not one to go in to detail. Hermione wondered if that was another reason that he hated Harry, that Harry was there to pick up and repair the pieces of something he had left behind.

Ginny had been following Tom around in tenth grade, or so Tom told her. But his word was often unreliable, or heavily biased, so she didn't let it affect her judgment. Everyone knew that Ginny liked him, and Tom crushed her heart with no remorse or feelings of pity at all.

But that was back in tenth grade, the good old days of high school. It didn't seem to bother Ginny anymore, and she highly doubted that anything bothered Tom. It was a long time ago. A lot had changed.

After all, the past weeks of her life had been nearly the most eventful.

Hermione looked at them, one by one. At Harry and Ron, who helped her in their own way. At Ginny—who she had no doubt wrote the letter to Tom in the first place—who repeatedly pulled her out of her house and out of her sulking. At Luna and Neville in the distance, the two newlyweds, who had first introduced her to Tom.

And then finally, at Tom himself.

It was then, Hermione truly realized that she loved all the people in her life, both the old and the new, the ones who helped her get through a rough time in her life. She recalled Tom saying once that he often gave an ability based on what the person loved, because it was more real that way.

If that was the case, then Hermione believed that she might have just found the solution to the question she had been so desperate to find the answer to for the past five years.

Smiling widely, she turned to her friends. Harry looked understanding, even though Hermione knew he was most likely hurt that Ginny hadn't told him. She reminded herself to scold Tom later; while he was intelligent and cunning and charming, her friends still held important places in her heart. Not that he would take the scolding well, but Hermione only hoped that it would lead to another debate. Ron looked shock, as if his little sister had never kept anything from him before. Though, Hermione supposed, maybe she hadn't.

"Harry, Ron," she said, and they both turned to look at her. They looked surprised that she was so happy on a day that was supposed to be her worst nightmare. And two weeks ago, it was; she dreaded the coming of this very day, the date was a mark of her failure. Now, she saw it as a new beginning. And she had a certain someone to thank for that.

Not that she would ever thank him. His ego was big enough already.

"I never answered your question, Harry," Hermione grinned as Tom stepped up next to her. The close up version of his costume was even funnier, and he shot her a glare when she giggled. She turned back to her friends, who were both looking curiously at her and suspiciously at Tom. She poked Tom in the arm, one of the only parts of him that still looked masculine. "This is my princess."

That was when Tom picked her up, kissed her, and carried her off in to the sunset, and the two of them lived happily ever after.

At least, that was what Hermione liked to believe.

Reality was much less story-like. He did indeed pick her up, though instead of using his mouth to kiss her, he instead muttered some death threats to Harry under his breath and then glared at him. Harry was glancing between the two of them, trying to work it out, and Ron, who had looked confused ever since she had shown up in the prince costume, had his mouth wide open in shock.

Tom merely gave them one last smirk, before carrying her off. But it was not romantic like Hermione thought it would be. Instead, he dropped her in a murky pond, the cold water stinging her skin. Hermione sputtered, trying to spit the water out of her mouth as Tom watched on, a smug look on his face.

That look was abruptly wiped off when she reached over, grabbed his leg and pulled him in to the water with her. Almost immediately after he went in, a pool of glitter arose on the surface, floating around his head.

Tom came up seconds later, scowling at her as water dripped from his hair. In response, she merely gathered some of the fallen glitter and scattered it on his hair, laughing when he glared at her as he tried to get them off. Hermione knew from experience, though, that glitter stuck like glue.

"Happy Halloween, Tom," Hermione said cheerfully.

Maybe Halloween wasn't so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:Ahhh, Hunger Games quote and Skyfall (newest James Bond movie) quote(s) in the mix. Can you find them? ^^
> 
> Ahhh, this is essentially a lazy fic. Was supposed to be a two shot, but I was too lazy to write the second chapter, so here it is as a oneshot. I might write some more regarding the time frame that I just skipped over, but for today, it will be a completed oneshot.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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